


Around The World

by ectoviolet



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Losing Touch, Reminiscing, high school sweethearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectoviolet/pseuds/ectoviolet
Summary: Daisy sees Donald again after years of separation. At first, she doesn't realize how much has changed.





	Around The World

Daisy Duck is doing her groceries, minding her own business, when she sees something familiar in the corner of her vision. She sets down the lettuce she’d been inspecting and turns to get a better look. There he is, leaning on the handle of his shopping cart, eyeing a tomato with unreasonable suspicion. “Donnie?” 

His head whips around and he makes eye contact. “Daisy?” 

Daisy feels a grin break across her face. “Oh my god, hasn’t it just been forever?” They haven’t seen one another since graduation, and Daisy doesn’t particularly want to count the years. “Of all the places to see you!” She strides toward him and wraps her arms around his shoulders. 

Donald laughs, sounding maybe a little uneasy. The hug may have been too much. Daisy steps back awkwardly, lets out a little nervous giggle too. She takes a look at him, up and down. God, has he changed. He looks… so much older. Has she changed that much too? 

“How are you doing lately?” he asks, trying to break the silence. 

“Oh, you know how it is. Working, keeping up with the bills,” she says. “Actually--remember Minnie? From school? I manage her store, now.”

Donald raises his eyebrows. “That’s great! Gosh, I really haven’t been keeping in touch with the gang. What do you sell?” 

“Women’s accessories,” Daisy replies. She points to her hairclip. “Minnie makes them. Aren’t they fantastic?” 

Donald inspects it for a moment, like he really cares about women’s fashion. “Looks well made,” he says finally. 

Daisy can’t help but snort. Donald has never been able to just admit he didn’t know about something. At least that doesn’t seem to have changed. “I’ll tell her you said so. Now how about you, what have you been up to?” 

“Well, uh--” Donald is interrupted when three nearly-identical ducklings come barrelling toward him. 

The one in blue holds up a packet of cookies. “Look!” 

“No,” Donald says, firmly but not sharply. 

Daisy gawks. She can’t help it. Donald--a  _ father?  _

“ _ Please!”  _ says the one in red. “They’re marshmallow-filled!” 

“Marsh--?-- _ no!”  _ Donald repeats. “Go put it back!” 

The boys huff and start to tromp away. Donald turns back to Daisy with an apologetic look. The boy in green, the only one who hadn’t spoken, takes the box and stands on his toes, about to drop it in Donald’s shopping cart while his back is turned. 

“ _ Louie,”  _ Donald snaps, without turning around. 

The boy groans loudly, taking the box back and stomping off. Daisy thinks she might see him shove it under his sweatshirt as he rounds the corner, but neglects to mention it.

She’s still reeling, just slightly. Donald has  _ children.  _ Three of them! And not babies, either, they looked at least nine or ten years old. Other than Minnie, Donald and his sister Della had been her best friends growing up, and Daisy had been totally unaware that he’d had triplets until this point. She feels like a jerk. God, and with who? Was Donald  _ married?  _ Had he not invited her to his wedding? Had they really drifted  _ that  _ far? 

“Sorry about that,” Donald breaks through her introspection. “They’re--I promise they’re good kids,” he says nervously. It seems important to him that she know this.

“I’m sure they are,” she says, smiling warmly as she can manage. “My nieces are the same way about sugar.” 

“Right, right,” he says, “I remember when your sister had girls.” 

Daisy feels like an  _ extra  _ jerk. Donald knew about Donna’s girls, but she didn’t know about his kids. “Have you been in touch with her?” 

“No, I think I heard it from--from Della,” he says, suddenly very interested in his tomatoes again. “It was just a few months before she had the boys.” 

Della’s boys. Daisy feels suddenly a lot better. She  _ does  _ remember Della having triplets, a long time ago. Of  _ course  _ they’re hers. “That’s right, isn’t it?” she says brightly. “How is Della, anyway?” 

Donald seems slightly taken aback. He is silent for a few moments. Finally, he looks back up at Daisy. “We lost Della a few years ago.” 

Daisy’s hand raises to her mouth. “Oh. Oh my god. Oh, Donnie, I’m so sorry.” Daisy feels tears gathering in her eyes. How had she not  _ known?  _ How had she become so estranged from some of her best friends that she didn’t even realize one of them had  _ died?  _

Donald bags his tomatoes slowly. “It’s--it’s alright, Daze. You don’t have to apologize.” He leans on his cart. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I just assumed you’d know.” 

“I-I  _ should  _ have known,” Daisy whispers. “When--how long ago?” 

Donald tilts his head for a moment, in thought. “This isn’t the best place for this conversation. Uh, how about we finish our groceries and we’ll get coffee, okay? I’ll meet you at the front of the store.” Daisy nods, and he turns, about to leave. 

She stops him. “Donald, tell me how long.” 

“It’s been ten years.” 

///

Daisy stands on the curb and watches Donald heatedly talking with a large man in a jacket, who seems to be ushering the triplets into a very fancy looking car. 

“If you crash this car with my boys in it, I am going to bring you back to life and then I am going to kill you,” Donald is saying. “And make sure they bring the groceries to the kitchen. They’ll try to get Mrs. B to do it, but don’t let them.” 

“Sure thing, D-man.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

The large man laughs. “Okay.” 

“I mean it about killing you,” Donald shouts, as the man gets into the driver’s seat. He offers only a friendly wave in response as he peels out of the parking lot and onto the busy street. 

Daisy can’t help but ask. “Who’s that?” 

Donald sighs. “Launchpad. My uncle’s driver.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You remember my Uncle Scrooge, right?”

“Yes, I happen to remember Scrooge McDuck.” 

Donald shrugs sheepishly. “Now. Coffee. I know a place nearby, we can leave our cars here and walk if you want.” 

“Sure.” 

Donald leads the way, his pace a little quick for Daisy’s liking, but nothing she can’t keep up with. 

“Now, you never told me what you’ve been up to,” Daisy prompts. 

Donald seems to think a moment. “It’s kind of hard to sum up,” he says. “I mean, I’ve been working. Recently had a few jobs running ships.” 

“Oh, that’s great!” Daisy remembers the way Donald took to sailing as a kid. 

Donald nods, but seems to lack enthusiasm. “It’s decent pay. Looking after the boys, that takes up most of my time. Especially since they’ve been spending a lot of time around Scrooge. Any normal uncle, that’d mean  _ less _ work for me.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well, you know how Scrooge is. He’s always carting them off on some adventure or expedition,” Donald grumbles. 

Daisy laughs. “You say that like world travels are a bad thing!” 

Donald flinches slightly. “Yeah, well…” he trails off. “I used to travel the world. With Scrooge. With the Navy. By myself. Look where it got me. Right back where I started.” 

“Is that so awful?” Daisy’s lived in Duckburg her whole life. It’s home. 

“I don’t know.” Donald sighs. “I just want…” he flounders for a moment. “I want them to be better than this.” He gestures to himself. 

Daisy wants to protest, but finds she has nothing to say. 

///

Daisy blows gently on her latte for a few moments, and takes a tentative sip. She scalds her tongue instantly. 

Donald, however, seems unaffected, as he takes a long gulp from his mug with no reaction. 

“How does that not hurt?” 

Donald sets his mug down. “I’ve burned my tongue so many times that my entire mouth is just a callus.” 

Daisy snorts and laughs. Donald was always good at making her laugh. “God. God, I didn’t realize how much I missed you.” 

Donald nods. “Missing people sneaks up on you.” He stares into his coffee for a few moments. “I really missed you, too.” 

Daisy leans back in her chair for a moment. “Why did we… you know, why didn’t we stay in touch better?” 

Donald shrugs. “I have a lot of excuses. No real answers.” 

“I guess I could say the same.” But if she’s being honest, Daisy has no excuse for not knowing about Della. “Tell me… Can you tell me a little bit, about…” 

Donald seems to know what she means. “Yeah. I. Just give me a minute to…” He stares at his hands. 

“Take all the time you need.” 

Donald takes another long gulp of his coffee. “The thing is, there isn’t all that much to tell. I… don’t know what happened to her. Nobody does,” he says quietly. “There were no bus tickets on her credit cards. No taxi fare. No--no  _ gas. _ Her plane never left the ground. They never found her car. No record of her having been... anywhere.” He’s starting to get worked up. “I didn’t know she was gone until I got a call from the babysitter. Said Della was a few hours late coming home. Wasn’t answering her phone. I was the second emergency number.” He spreads his palms, as if laying down a hand of cards. “That’s all I have to go on.” 

“The police didn’t find anything?” 

“Not even the team of special private investigators Scrooge hired found anything.” 

“So, she…” 

“She just disappeared.” 

Daisy stares into her latte. “I don’t understand…”

“Me neither.” 

She tries to imagine if the same thing happened with Donna. Donna leaving her girls behind. Donna vanishing into thin air. She can’t, honestly, picture it. And she and Donna were never as close as Donald and Della were, anyway. Somehow, she doesn’t think it would be the same. 

“I’m… so sorry. I wish…” She doesn’t know what she wishes. That she could bring Della back, she supposes. But saying so seems almost selfish. Donald has probably wished the same thing for ten years. “I wish I had been there for you,” she settles on.

Donald nods. “Thank you.” 

///

That night, Daisy crawls under her bed and drags out a tattered cardboard box. Things she’d brought from home but had no place for. On top, sits her senior yearbook. She places this on the floor. The other three years get the same treatment. 

There’s a plastic box, wedged between things, that holds a little white rose. Her corsage from homecoming, which she’d painstakingly dried and preserved all those years ago. She remembers Donald awkwardly wrapping it around her wrist, remembers rolling her eyes at Della who stood across the room with some boy doing the same thing. Remembers Della’s hand on her wrist, as the music faded to a slow ballad. 

_ “I love this song! Daisy, come dance!”  _

Daisy sets this aside as well. 

There is a framed photo. Minnie, Della, Daisy. It must have been freshman year. Minnie still has braces. A neon pink sticker in the corner of the frame declares the three girls to be “BFF!!!”. A few tears splatter on the glass, blurring their faces. 

Daisy wipes her eyes and continues. 

Some Jules Verne novels. Donald and Della had loved those. The three of them had used to act them out, with voices and all. Della particularly had loved ‘Around The World in 80 Days’. 

_ “We could do it in eight.”  _

Daisy had believed her. 

She feels compelled, suddenly, to flip through her yearbooks. She starts at freshman year and finds the signatures in the back. A lot of _HAGS_ _!  _ and  _ keep in touch! _ -type entries fill the pages. Her eyes scan for Della’s handwriting, as if she’d recognize it after all these years. Finally, she finds it. 

_ High school is crazy, but you make it crazier. Going to miss you this summer. I’ll write all the time. Hope you write back. Love you, Daze Craze. _

_ -Air Cadet _

Daisy had forgotten that they’d used such silly nicknames back then. But it rings in her ears suddenly, Della’s voice, her arm slung around Daisy’s shoulder as they left class. 

“ _ You’d better let me copy your test, Daze Craze. I wasn’t paying attention.” _

Next is sophomore year. Daisy finds Della’s entry a little more easily this time. 

_ It’s going to be a long, long, long summer without you. I miss you already. Don’t forget to write me! I’ll hold it against you! This year has been one of the best of my entire life. Love you like a sister. _

_ -Della _

_ (PS- I MEAN IT!  DON’T forget me!) _

Daisy needs to take a minute and some cleansing breaths after that one. She goes for the next one. Junior year. 

_ Can’t wait for  _ _ our _ _ vacation! Best summer of all time, much? Can’t believe you’re coming with us.  _

_ -Della.  _

Daisy remembers that summer. She had gone with Della and Donald’s family to a beach house their uncle owned in Cape Suzette. She’d gotten sunstroke, and Della had sat up with her in bed while the rest of the family went out to dinner, and read to her.

_ “Daisy Duck, you are positively cooked.”  _

Senior year.

_ Daisy. I’ll be in Duckburg all summer this year. I’m going to be training to fly. When I get my pilot’s license, I’ll fly you around the world in 8 days.  _

_ -Della  _

///

 


End file.
